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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870658">Ranger of Middle-Earth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manwe_Stark/pseuds/Manwe_Stark'>Manwe_Stark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Last Dragon-Redemption [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Cultural Differences, Eriador, Foreign Language, Gen, Growing Up, Middle Earth, POV Rhaegar Targaryen, Redemption, Rhaegar Targaryen Lives, Second Chances, World Travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manwe_Stark/pseuds/Manwe_Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a one-shot set during the Will of the Valar a few years after Rhaegar, Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon arrived in Middle-earth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rhaegar Targaryen &amp; Aragorn | Estel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Last Dragon-Redemption [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ranger of Middle-Earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rhaegar Targaryen, who is a member of the Rangers of the North, meets Aragorn, son of Arathorn in Amon Sul, where he tells him a ballade about Beren and Luthien.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>3008 Third Age, around Weathertop, Eriador, Middle-earth</strong>
</p><p>The grass rustled under his soft leather uppers and clung neatly to his calves, but muddy and worn over the past two and a half years. He wrapped himself tightly in his green cloak Lord Elrond had given him, as did a leather belt, a simple sword forged from good steel from the Rivendell forge, a short, handy dagger, a yew-wood bow with a quiver and a bundle of arrows, and intricately forged chain mail and a travel bag everything that will come in handy for him on the trail as one of the Rangers. Summer was ending and autumn was coming, so it got cooler and rainier.</p><p>He's been like that for three or four days since he got word that Strider wants to see him. All he knew was that he was the leader of the Dunedain, once an ancient and more numerous people, now few. He often traveled with them, hunting orcs and other inferior creatures to protect the people of Eriador, such as those of Bree and other towns. Life was not easy, even hard, but he slowly got used to it.</p><p>He surfaced from Chetwood Forest and turned right, heading south. He was headed for Weathertop, in Sindarin Amon Sul to the ruined watchtower of the long fallen kingdom of Arnor where he would meet the Strider.</p><p><em> I will not say a strange place to meet It is a ruined place and not very encouraging, a dead world of a fallen kingdom where only songs sing. A nasty prospect.</em> </p><p>The road twisted, as if deliberately dodging to hide from observation from the peaks as well as from the plain to the west. It plunged into forest ravines, climbed steep slopes, and if it ran very flat and open ground, it was shielded from both sides by huge boulders and stone mounds, behind which travelers were hidden as if behind a fence.<br/>Rhaegar looked up. The sun was already setting, leaving a bloody trail in the sky, and a faint trace of smoke so thin that it was almost invisible hovered over the very peak of Amon Sul marked by the ruins of the watchtower.<br/>He adjusted his hood, bowed his head, and continued on his way, marching along the corridor under the wall of particularly large and tightly packed boulders.</p><p>The sun had already hidden behind the distant Misty Mountains when it finally reached the southern end of the path and saw a gray-green embankment that led like a causeway to the northern slope of the mountain. He moved on immediately, suspecting that the Strider had arrived before him. He couldn't see any movement on the hill, but he didn't care, maybe just waiting for him to come.</p><p>On the west arm, Weathertop found a secluded basin the bottom of which was shaped like a bowl lined with grass. He looked at her briefly, then continued upstairs, not dripping too much. After a half-hour climb, Rhaegar Targaryen reached the summit. Tired and out of breath, he looked around at her.</p><p>It was a wide ring of stones, the remains of the old walls of the tower, today scattered in rubble and overgrown with grass for centuries. But in the center there was a fire lit up nicely, next to which sat a man dressed in a green cloak, well worn and covered with mud. His hood was pulled so tight that only his eyes were gray and shiny.<br/>- Hello, Rhaegarz, son of Aerys. Take a seat on the fire, I see that you are exhausted by your wandering in the wilderness and wilderness. Sit down and we'll eat and talk - he said.</p><p>Rhaegar did as Strider said, sat down by the fire against the man and pulled off his hood; the silver hair glistened in the fire as if it had been forged from pure silver. Fire danced in his eyes, and his fingers tingled pleasantly. A young goat was roasting on the fire, which the Strider would turn to roast evenly on each side. When it was done he took it off and divided it among us. I gave away some traveling bread, beef jerky, and hard yellow cheese soaked in water. Food worthy of a knight hedge and not a dragonstone prince, but he also got used to it. They ate in silence for a long time, and when they finally finished, Strider spoke:<br/>- As you know, they call me Strider, but my real name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and that is what you call me.</p><p>Rhaegar just nodded affirmatively.</p><p>- Okay, I called you because I wanted to get to know you better. We haven't seen much of each other lately and I want to get to know you better.</p><p>Rhaegar immediately began telling Aragorn about his life. He looked at his sun and wind that changed as he came to the end of his story. From quiet to thoughtful and undecided. It was hard for him to read Aragorn's emotions. Finally he spoke.</p><p>- You made many bad decisions for which it was necessary to pay your family, some you could change, others were the result of circumstances such as your father's madness and the ambitions of rulers and lords. It was a mistake to run away with Lyanna Stark because it started a chain of events that led to the fact that you got where you are, but it's not for me to judge you, we all carry a flaw in our hearts, but it depends on us whether we let her grow and poison our hearts or suppress it and let it be directed your better side, said Aragorn, looking at Rhaegar. As he removed his hood, the Duke of Targaryen could see that his hair was as black as the falling night.<br/>- The night is coming, I suggest that I tell you some stories, old tales and legends about elves and people, about the noble and nefarious deeds of the Old Days.<br/>- Well, that's okay, tell me- Rhaegar replied.<br/>- I'll tell you about Tivuniel- said Aragorn. - I will tell you briefly, because it is a long story and nobody knows its end. Apart from Elrond, no one today remembers exactly how it was told in the past. A beautiful story, though sad, like all Middle-earth legends, and yet can comfort your heart.<br/>He was silent for a moment, and then instead of speaking, he began to sing softly:<br/><br/><em>Green leaves, green grass,</em><br/><em>Tall, bright go crazy-</em><br/><em>And in the clearing the light of the stars</em><br/><em>Against the backdrop of shady avenues.</em><br/><em>Tinuviel leads the dance here</em><br/><em>(Flute tone; can you hear? Close),</em><br/><em>And the starlight on her hair</em><br/><em>And star flashes in the dress.</em></p><p>
  <em>Tired Beren came from the mountains,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Still wandered under the leaves -</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Until he saw the river of elves the shore</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And he said: where else should I go?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And he looked through the raging leaf:</em>
  <br/>
  <em>On the mantle the gold of the sun</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And a wave of hair like a shadow</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Behind her head she was walking - dancing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tired feet, what a drug!</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Wandering quite endlessly!</em>
  <br/>
  <em>So he moved on across the forest</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Grabbing the brilliance of the month.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And her through the dark forest of elves</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The dancing foot carries -</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And he is lonely as before</em>
  <br/>
  <em>In the silent forest he wanders.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And sometimes he hears the rustling of feet</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Very light among the leaves of lime;</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And sometimes like from underground caves</em>
  <br/>
  <em>A soft note melody.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Crazy leaf has long since withered</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And from the beech tree</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Red leaves fly in a circle</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And the cold wind blows them away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looked for her everywhere, he kept looking for her</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Where the leaf lay side by side</em>
  <br/>
  <em>When the moon shone in the frosty sky</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And the golden stars beside him.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Her coat shone in her monthly coat,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>When on a hill, far away</em>
  <br/>
  <em>She danced with her feet at her feet</em>
  <br/>
  <em>A silvery opal mist.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Winter is over - she is again</em>
  <br/>
  <em>He awakens spring with his song,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The hum of melting water</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And joyful trills from heaven.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>At her feet, see, a flower blooms,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Already Beren is captivated</em>
  <br/>
  <em>He would like to dance with her among the grass</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And of the flowers, we mold the crowns.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And she ran away again - Beren out loud</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Tinuviel calls out nice.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>She thought it might be an elf</em>
  <br/>
  <em>So she turned her head.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>This voice apparently cast a spell on her -</em>
  <br/>
  <em>She became captivated</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And then her fate came true,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>When she fell in his arms.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And when the depths looked in her eyes,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Like on a blue doe</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Enchanted, he saw the stars</em>
  <br/>
  <em>A silvery twinkle.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Tinuviel, the most beautiful among</em>
  <br/>
  <em>The perennial elves of the cluster</em>
  <br/>
  <em>She throws a net over it</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And silver arms.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fate has given them a long way</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Among the frosty mountains of stones,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Through the darkness of hollow caverns</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And forests full of shadows.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Sea areas divided them,</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But finally they met ...</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And they died long ago ... just a song</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It resounds in the forest further.</em>
</p><p>He sighed and only after a long moment said:<br/>- This is a chant in the fashion the elves call  <em>ann-thennath</em> , but it is difficult to translate into Common Speech, you have heard the barely ineffective echoes of real chants.<br/>He briefly summarized for him the stories of mortal Beren to the immortal Luthien and their fortunes which were sad though marked with hope, given that they then returned to life in Middle-earth. Nevertheless, Rhaegar felt that it was related to what he had done with Lyanna.<br/><em>No action is worth what we have done. It has paid too much for our actions for me to sleep soundly. You want to do right and it goes awry. I just hope it never comes to something like Westeros. No love is worth suffering so much.</em> <br/>The priest ascended high in the sky, and Rhaegar sang a song of his own authorship to Aragorn and they retired. Tomorrow they will go to Rivendell and today they will rest here.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My little point is that I don't consider Rhaegar a monster. Some authors may think so (I will not mention their nicknames for the sake of decency) but you have to put it into perspective. Anyway, Rhaegar is better here.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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